Plan My Addiction
by loveandallthat
Summary: Even after the Straw Hats have gotten everything they wanted, they can't be invincible forever. Nami tries to cope as she slowly loses everyone, and with them herself. An exploration of the bonds of being a crew, all the way to the end.


Nami's surprised she's so surprised that Luffy is the first one to go. He's never exactly been one to be careful, and he was always sacrificing years of his life to try to save other people. It also makes sense logically, she tells herself. They're all going to die at different times, so they have to be in some sort of order. Luffy is first in almost every category that comes to her mind. She thinks of Zoro, on the other side of the world. If they're going in order of joining the Straw Hat crew, he's next (and she's right after). Zoro's next if they're going by strength too (but Nami thinks she'd be last, then.) She downs a shot of rum in his name.

When it's Chopper next (reindeer eating a human fruit and averaging the life expectancies of the two creatures, she decides) it must be because they're going in order of who has been the kindest, had the best intentions. Will she be closer to the end of the list because she has been such a greedy thief? Or did she fuck herself over by sacrificing her own comfort and happiness for her village? Two shots, then.

Were she not so numb she may have figured that Franky would leave them next. After so narrowly escaping death once he was bound to have suffered serious damaging injuries. It had apparently been wishful thinking that he'd live longer because of all his robotic parts. Hey, she figures, maybe they helped him some. Not enough, not nearly enough. Maybe they're all just passing away in reverse-serious order. Silliest first. Where does that put her? Probably third to last, she decides, with only Zoro and Robin after her. But Robin's older, she thinks. Do Devil Fruits extend or shorten life spans? Four shots to wash away the thoughts.

She loses a partner in crime (or maybe a partner in cowering) with Usopp's sudden death. It's natural, and in his sleep. Usopp would have outrun any threats if he was awake, she knows. It seems awfully unfair of death to have claimed him like that. (She runs too, sometimes; will it do the same?) It seems to her that they're going away in the order of when they felt they had achieved their dreams. Chopper's, Franky's, Usopp's, weren't they all completed just as Luffy completed his? That could put Sanji next, as they'd truly ended up at All Blue at the same time; it could be Robin after that since she'd discovered the lost history then too. Nami thinks that she might end up last in this scenario. Technically one could consider her map incomplete even now that they'd travelled nearly everywhere and she'd expertly plotted everywhere they had gone. The world was ever-changing, and full of mysteries. Hm. Dying last. It's an eight shot kind of day.

Every loss feels like a shot to her chest, of course, but Robin's is like that, but with a knife in the gut and a slap in the face. As the two females in the crew they had many reasons to bond. Even though Nami had been there longer and developed more, stronger bonds, and Robin was strong and a fighter, there was a bond of sorority that drew them together despite their differences, and the severance of it had Nami unable to breathe. She thinks of the nakama she has left, and thinks maybe God is saving the swordsmen for last, for some reason. Maybe it's all about swordsmanship, something that Luffy had none of. Nami probably lasted this long because she fought with a staff, but the fact that Sanji was a chef and an expert with knives would probably let him last longer. Sixteen shots are sixteen toasts to her inevitable upcoming death.

Except it's Sanji, _Sanji, _and not her. Sanji who suffered much more severe damages from starvation as a child than he had anticipated, whose organs were much weaker and less developed than those of an average person, and had been overheated by his fighting style. She darkly amuses herself by thinking that maybe they're dying in order of sexual experience. Really she doesn't know the intimate details of her friends' lives, but suddenly she's speculating, but it doesn't seem to make sense that Zoro would be left in the "more" category. Sanji being where he's at could make sense, and maybe she'd slip in right after him. It's not his cooking she'll miss (though she worries her body could spontaneously shut down from lack of nutrients if she even tries eating on her own) and it's not his fawning over her. It's just Sanji, the whole package, everything he was. How could she have been so fortunate as to be around all of these people for so long? How could she have been so unlucky as to live while they all die? Nami starts dreaming a lot. She imagines herself standing tall, tall but so _weak_, as each of her nakama collapse around her. She keeps standing not out of a greater strength but an inability to think of anything to do. She couldn't save them, couldn't even try, so she watches. She wakes up crying and sweating every morning. Thirty-two drinks for dreamless sleep.

It's the three of them left, Nami, Zoro, and Brook. The two first to join Luffy and the one last. If there's something poetic in that, it's lost on Nami. Without even thinking about it she invites them to stay at her house, if they're tired of traveling around. It's surprising but not unwelcome when they both show up within an hour of each other, and without having sent notice that they'd arrive. The bags under Zoro's eyes are bigger than her own, and even when he _tries_ to make conversation he can't focus. Nami doesn't notice. Brook has a large briefcase, but Zoro has come empty-handed. It takes Nami three days to realize what's weird about that, and that's only when she catches Brook staring at Zoro's side. _His swords are gone. _There was nothing right in the world, was there? Nami knows without asking that he had no home to leave them; if they aren't with him they're gone, but she asks anyway. Zoro acts surprised at the question, as if he's forgotten he has ever carried swords. It's strange and self-centered that Nami hasn't realized until this moment how other people were affected. Luffy's death would have hit Zoro just as hard as it hit her. Without a captain and with a title of greatest swordsman, all Zoro would have would be a measly rivalry with Sanji (wherein he held back his true strength, just to keep it going.) So with him gone…

It's no surprise to Nami when she finds that Zoro has lost to the new up and coming master swordsman she's seen in the newspapers. Zoro would have the brat beat in raw talent, practiced skill, and brute strength, but the strong will and sheltered optimism of the kid trump Zoro's deep depression any day. She sits by his body for twelve straight hours before Brook finds them in the corner of the alley at sunrise. And he sits down right next to them.

She has sixty-four stolen shot glasses filled and laid out for dramatic effect when Brook walks into her house without knocking. He drinks half of them, surprising her with his tolerance until she remembers he's all bones.

"I can't die," Brook tells her, a week after. She knows.

"Well," he starts, uncertainly, "I can't die unless…" and he puts his large briefcase down on Nami's kitchen table with a loud thump. He turns it toward her, so that she could easily unlatch it and look at the contents. She's suddenly nervous, but she does.

It contains six massive, wildly-colored Devil Fruits, and everything makes sense to Nami; understanding hits her like a train. She nods at him, but she can't bring herself to speak.

"I don't know which ones they are, but I guess it doesn't matter, does it? I figured… well, one might not do it, since that only ruins your body, right? So I might try a few at once." He's speaking as though this is a purely theoretical discussion, like there's no emotion involved in this, even though that's all there is.

Nami has already considered this. "Yeah," she says, her voice shaking slightly. "Yes," she says, more strongly.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Brook asks. It's a twisted but touching offer. _I'll put off killing myself until you die. _The bonds on their crew amaze her to this day. There was never anything special linking the two of them but today it doesn't matter.

"No," she answers immediately, having had this thought through the second she knew what was going on. "If you're ready…" she starts, but doesn't know how to phrase it, "If you're ready, then do it."

Brook slides the briefcase across the table to himself, and it doesn't even occur to Nami to be bothered that it might damage the wood. He seems to think hard about it, and pulls out three of the fruits. A tall, gourd-like orange one, a slightly lumpy green one, and a perfectly round, shiny cherry-red fruit. She suddenly wonders if he's going to just eat them this second in the middle of her kitchen, but he stands up and neatly lines them up on Nami's countertop, red, green, orange. They're flanked on either side by her collection of booze. He looks at her, and through her, and she gets it.

Reaching slightly over Nami to close the suitcase on the three remaining fruits, Brook grabs the handle. He looks at Nami as he pulls it to himself and picks it up.

"I'm going to do it tonight. I want you to know that."

"Okay," Nami whispers.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he says, his hand on the doorknob.

"Wait!" she yells, and Brook turns. It's completely wrong, and ruins the mood, and it's so fucked up, but when Brook turns to look at her she's suddenly lost her outfit and is standing there in her bra and panties. He understands immediately; how many times has he asked to see her panties only to have the request violently refused? He smiles. Being the last ones left has really screwed them up, hasn't it?

"It appears your beauty has caused my eyeballs to fall out of their sockets," he says, with only half his usual good-spiritedness.

She laughs at this, surprising herself, but the laughter turns to tears as he closes the door quietly.

She could find out what it would be like to be a fruit user, she thinks (but does she care anymore?) She could eat two or three of them and die like Brook. Just eat one and jump into the ocean. Sell all the fruits and be even richer, and drink in celebration until it turns into drinking to drown her sorrows.

How many drinks would it take to die?

* * *

The title of this story comes from the song One Night Stand by Big City Kids. The story has nothing at all to do with the song, but it IS where I got the words for the title.

The theory of this story is: Nami is rationalizing everyone's deaths because she can't handle them. Each reasoning she creates for the order of their deaths gets more and more obscure and unlikely as she gets more and more out of her mind and also slowly develops alcoholism to cope. Maybe if it had been anyone but Luffy first she wouldn't have gone down this path. She doesn't feel like the last to die; she feels like the second, right after Luffy. And, uh, in my head, Zoro goes equally crazy, but… much more quietly. I probably didn't portray any of this accurately, which is why I'm explaining it after the fact. (I hope that some of this actually WAS apparent, because it's what I was going for. If you have the time, please let me know.)

(I promise to respond to ALL signed reviews. I love constructive criticism especially, but reviews of any kind as well.)

John Green thinks that as soon as a story is finished it belongs to the readers. J K Rowling obviously has a ton of additional Harry Potter information that she considers canon. I know I'm not nearly up to either of their caliber, and who am I to decide, so I'm giving my readers the option. I DO have an opinion on what Nami does after this, but it's just not part of this story. So, if it's important for you to know what I'd say, feel free to ask and I'll let you know.

Thanks for reading.


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